


Cardinal

by fluffymusketeer



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Brothels, Ereri Mini Bang 2019, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Smut, like... ANGST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffymusketeer/pseuds/fluffymusketeer
Summary: Not once, even in his most feverish fantasies, did Eren ever imagine he’d stumble across his Captain in a brothel. Manga Spoilers. Written for the Ereri Mini Bang 2019.*re-uploaded*
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 21
Kudos: 242





	Cardinal

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Long time no.... anything.
> 
> So I had some bad luck with this fic. I accidentally broke AO3's T&Cs and someone decided to report that, and I received an email telling me I had like a few weeks to rectify it before the fic got deleted forever... an email which I failed to read in the requisite few weeks because hey, 2020 happened. Thus the fic got deleted and I was kind of upset and narked about the whole thing so it has taken me a while to repost it.
> 
> But I am doing so now! I hope you are all keeping well and safe, sending hugs to the whole ereri fandom <3
> 
> I will also add Noe's fabulous fanart for this fic in due course, I just have to remember how to do it. For now it's just the writing but the art will be added soon!

**Cardinal**

He is going to betray them.

When Eren skulks away from the meeting with Yelena, he knows it. Everything is unfolding inexorably before him, a bit like the muddy trail of footprints squished into the dirt at his feet… or the wine already flowing into the goblets of Paradis’ finest.

As he retraces his own steps, the freezing night rain sinks into his bones, and suddenly Eren cannot do it anymore. Cannot put one foot in front of the other back to his lonely bed in the lonely barracks, cannot keep pretending his path isn’t diverging from everyone he knows and loves.

Eren needs rest. There is none in his future.

He stands so long in the rain-soaked streets that water seeps through his hood and into his hair. Then his feet are moving, chasing escape.

By the time he pitches up shakily in the doorway of the brothel Jean once told him about, Eren thinks he’s about to keel over and vomit.

“Listen, Eren,” Jean had muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. “There’s this place I heard about for guys who are, you know, into guys. Apparently they’re pretty discreet.”

“What the hell does that have to do with _me?_ ” Eren had snapped, intensely focused on whatever Captain Levi was saying.

“Ugh, forget it.”

Eren never gave Jean enough credit, really.

His minor breakdown is interrupted by the door of the brothel creaking open. A burst of heat and light hits Eren in the face, and he straightens up.

“I _thought_ I heard someone out here.”

Eren is unprepared to find himself face to face with a rather good looking man wearing a gauzy outfit revealing a muscular body. He swallows, unsure what to say.

The man looks him over. “Are you alright?”

_No,_ Eren thinks. _I’m not alright_. Out loud, he simply makes an affirmative noise. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. The meeting with Yelena and the horrible truth of her purpose in Paradis is still too fresh in his mind.

“You look nervous. First time?” The man cocks his head to one side, soft blond hair falling across blue eyes. “And you’re soaked. Did you sneak out or something?”

_Well… yes._

Though he doubts the man is thinking of the borderline treason Eren has just committed.

The brothel is emitting a red glow into the rainy night, its closed curtains a faded burgundy, the room beyond the door a startling crimson. Eren hears deep laughter and the clinking of wine glasses. A hand waves in front of Eren’s face, interrupting his curiosity. “So are you coming in or what? I don’t like wasting my time, kid.”

Eren hastily slips inside. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the crimson room. “Bar’s that way.”

“Is that where I…?”

“If you can afford it, yes.” It’s spoken in a tone that indicates Eren’s ability to pay is subject to some suspicion.

“Alright.”

Eren would not know he’s inside a weather-worn building tucked down a side street in Trost. Everything recedes behind a haze of smoky air. Artfully arranged cuts of red materials — velvet, tulle, silk, lace — are gathered in the rafters and drift out to create alcoves of cloistered privacy. Somewhere unseen, someone’s fingers pluck oddly discordant twangs from a stringed instrument which Eren cannot name. It is a strangely private place, considering its purpose.

There is a wooden bar area, where a young woman serves drinks from beneath the counter to a handful of men.

Eren takes a seat a little way off from the others. It’s hard to tell if any of them are… _prostitutes_. He forces himself to think the word; he’s here to pay for one after all. Their clothes – simple evening attire rather than the revealing outfit of the man at the door – make Eren think they are probably prospective patrons.

“Well, honey, I can tell _you’re_ a soldier.”

Eren finds the barmaid is wiping the bar in front of him. When she meets his eyes, her smile wavers before fixing itself back in place, slightly strained. Clearly, she knows who he is.

“How can you tell I’m a soldier?” he offers, trying to be polite.

She takes the hint. “Ah, I can always tell a soldier,” the barmaid replies, winking. “Something in the way you walk. Especially you scouts. How long since any of you saw a titan? And you still skulk around like you’re expecting one to appear at any moment! I mean, well, I suppose…”

Eren stares down at his hand grimly. Yes, one _could_ appear at any moment. He doesn’t know how to reassure her, but then she reaches beneath the counter and plonks a bottle of deep red liquid on the bar. “Wine?” she asks in an overly bright tone, already fetching a glass.

“No!”

The patrons turn to stare.

“No,” Eren repeats, lowering his voice a bit. “No wine. Definitely not.”

“Oh.” The barmaid is clearly unsettled. “Well, I suppose not everyone is a wine person!”

Logically, he knows the wine here is unaffected. But according to Yelena the contaminated product has been in circulation ever since the Marleyan volunteers arrived. What if the higher ups visit this place? It would be the perfect way to infect people. Eren cannot trust it. Refuses to trust it.

“Beer?” she suggests. “Lemon water? Tea?”

“Water is fine, thank you.”

Eren sips his water and looks around. He’s never paid for sex before – never had sex at all, for that matter – but a lot of his comrades visit the local brothels. It’s not like Eren has been waiting for someone special or anything, but he’s never thought too much on it either.

Right now though, thinking about something as uncomplicated as sex sounds perfect. He wonders if he could find someone dark haired with dangerous-looking muscles to take his virginity. Eren decides he would like that.

It doesn’t seem busy, but this is an illusion of the way the brothel has been decorated rather than a lack of clientele. Low-murmured conversations in dark corners, seemingly innocent chit chats at the bar, a pot of tea being served in one of the curtained alcoves… there’s more going on than at first glance.

Eren does a double take, eyes flying back to the alcove. The barmaid is placing a teapot on an ornate table, and steam still curls into the air as she politely withdraws; clearly, the occupants of this particular alcove are too busy to thank her. One reclines on a chaise in loose casual clothes, head tipped sensually back, lips parted. A handsome man kneels before him on a cushion, massaging oil into his client’s bare feet with expert movements.

But Eren cannot really focus on that.

Because the man on the chaise is Captain Levi.

The alcove is enclosed by lacy maroon curtains, the scene behind tender and unreal, but _it’s_ _definitely Captain Levi_.

Eren barely has time to register the sheer onslaught of emotions that flood him; Levi must have a sixth sense or something, because as soon as Eren thoughts turn to fleeing, Levi’s eyes open.

He stares across the bar at Eren, and Eren can tell he is just as shocked to see his subordinate there as Eren is to see his Captain.

Levi recovers quickly, a scowl twisting his features even as Eren is still gaping like an idiot. Levi gets his companion’s attention. He says a few short, sharp words, and that handsome man gets up and walks away with a grace Eren can only dream of. He doesn’t know whether to be jealous or impressed.

Levi hastily shoves his bare feet back into his boots. He jabs his finger in Eren’s direction and mouths, “You. Here. _Now_.”

It’s not easy to tell, but Eren thinks there might be a flush of embarrassment across Levi’s cheekbones. Wrong-footed and shocked, Eren can do little but obey his superior officer’s command and head over.

He sweeps the lace aside and drops onto the chaise beside Levi, keenly aware of the glare Levi is burning into the side of his head. “I’m sorry,” he rushes to say before Levi can speak, mortified to have accidentally invaded Levi’s privacy. “Captain, I’m so, so sorry.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Eren?” Levi hisses.

_The same thing as you apparently,_ Eren thinks. But he can hardly say that, can he? He’s still in a state of disbelief. The last person Eren would ever imagine making use of a brothel is his uptight, fastidious, notoriously reticent captain. Especially not one catering to men with rather particular tastes. Eren feels another fresh wave of shock as the realisation hits him. _Captain Levi likes men._

“Is your tongue broken or—?”

“I’m here for exactly the same thing you are,” Eren mutters, a bit annoyed. Levi is clearly embarrassed to have been caught attending to something so personal, and is taking it out on Eren. “You called _me_ over.”

“Tch.”

Eren stares at the ornate tea set on the table with its painted goldenrod and scarlet flowers, waiting for Levi to chew him out further. After a fraught silence, he risks a glance.

Levi is rubbing at his forehead in agitation, eyes closed.

“I’m sorry—”

“For god’s sake Eren, stop apologising,” he snaps.

Eren opts to keep his mouth shut. Levi is clearly trying to work through something. Eren cannot tell if it’s humiliation or anger, maybe a mixture of both. Whatever it is, he would rather not be on the receiving end when Levi snaps. He considers getting up, but is kept in place by a long, weary-sounding sigh.

“So,” Levi says after a while.

“So,” Eren replies. _This is awkward._

Levi stretches his arms along the back of the chaise, like he’s forcing himself to relax, delicate fingers pressing divots into the red velvet upholstering. Furniture like this chaise used to sit in the mansions of Wall Sina’s aristocracy, but after the uprising those places were stripped bare, the finery making its way to poorer quarters.

Levi looks oddly perfect upon it. 

Maybe he’s just resigned to this unfortunate situation, since they’re both already stuck in it. He shoots Eren a look; it’s almost conspiratorial.

Eren fidgets, unsure what to expect.

“This place, huh?” Levi nods at their general surroundings and raises an eyebrow.

Eren appreciates Levi is trying to make peace, but grimaces from sheer embarrassment. “Uh, yeah. This place.” Unsure if more of an explanation is required, he adds, “Jean told me about it.”

“Of course he did.”

Eren wants to confirm what they’re really discussing — _you like men too, right?_ — but he has a feeling that a question with such a mind-numbingly obvious answer will be met with short shrift.

Levi seems content to leave it at that, laying his head back and crossing his legs. Maybe he’s still trying to think of something to say. It’s not like he can start a conversation about anything beyond this brothel; it’s clear neither of them are here to talk railway construction or aerial manoeuvring tactics. And now with everything Eren knows—

He stills. _This could be the moment_.

Eren could tell Levi! Inside this brothel they are wrapped in shimmering red privacy. No one would suspect them, no one would ever know they’d met here. He could put it all on the table. _I feel like I’m being blackmailed, Captain,_ he could say. _Like I have no choice._ Tell Levi they had let in an enemy the moment Yelena and her compatriots stepped foot on the sandy Paradisian shores, tell him the higher ups are already compromised by something as inconspicuous as foreign wine, tell him that if Eren doesn’t go to Marley and meet with Zeke alone, all of Paradis is at risk.

Beyond the heavy burgundy drapes that cover the windows, the shadows of unsuspecting citizens hurry past in the rain. _No one knows they are here._ The brothel might as well not exist.

He could tell Levi everything, and Levi would find a way to make it okay.

Maybe.

Or, he would tell Hange, and Hange would tell Pixis, and Pixis would tell Zackly. And just like with Historia and the secrets of the royal bloodline, they will take Eren’s knowledge and, in their naivety, endanger the lives of all the people he loves.

Eren feels sick at the thought of it. Forcefully shoving down the temptation to spill all his secrets, he desperately looks around for a distraction.

Finds one in a dark corner, just visible from where he’s sitting.

Two men are sharing an intimate moment. One gasps and bites his lip as the other’s hand disappears beneath the table they sit at, the movement of arm muscles leaving little to the imagination. Are they allowed to do that in the bar? The patron looks dazed, eyes travelling across his companion's face as if he can’t believe this is happening. He’s not a particularly good looking man, and he’s paying for the service, but in this moment Eren thinks he must have forgotten all of that.

He casts around for something to say. “The men here are very…” Eren is embarrassed to describe it. All he knows is he’ll have to think about crossing his legs to disguise himself if the erotic display continues.

“Sexy?”

At first, he isn’t sure he heard correctly. Slowly, he turns to stare at Levi.

Levi appears _almost_ amused. There’s a twitch of his lips, though he’s not looking at Eren. He’s watching the men as well.

Eren rubs the sweat from the back of his neck. “Ha,” he says. “I guess, yeah.” This is so weird.

At length, one of the men rises to his feet, taking the other by the hand and leading him off through a bead-covered doorway to a more private part of the brothel. Eren can’t prevent his gaze from sliding down down _down_ , because neither of them seem inclined to hide the evidence of their arousal from the curious eyes of other patrons.

Would that have been the course of Levi’s evening too? The massage growing in intensity and fervour until that handsome young man led him away? Eren shuffles uncomfortably, caught between arousal and jealousy.

“It’s alright, Eren.” Levi is watching him, gaze scanning his face as if taking note of the various emotions playing across it. “No one is judging you. Not here.”

“Do you often—?” Eren stops, unsure what he’s allowed to ask, then begins again. “I didn’t know that you came here.”

Levi snorts. “Well, no.” He spares Eren a wry glance. “Why would you? I’m not about to make myself the hot new gossip at headquarters.” He pauses. “What I do in my own time is private. I trust you’ll respect that.”

“Of course, sir.”

Levi goes quiet, crossing his arms. His eyes drift closed. Maybe it’s the effect of the cloying incense smoke in the air, which smells of burning wood and cloves. Such things are imported from lands in the east now; who knows what kind of effects they have? They could be just as poisonous as the wine. The dark shirt Levi’s wearing is thin enough that Eren can make out ridges of muscle, can visualise the old injuries that lie beneath. He’s fought alongside this man for a long time now, knows all his scars. He has faith in Levi.

_Captain, we have a problem_ . It would be so easy, to offload some of the responsibility. _Paradis is in danger._

The words are there, hovering at the tip of his tongue, so close he can taste them on his lips.

“What’s wrong, Eren?”

He blinks, realising Levi had never stopped observing him despite the veneer of relaxation. One eye is cracked open, and he’s frowning.

_Everything_ , Eren wants to say.

“Were you going to have sex with that man?” he blurts instead. Damn it, how much more is he going to humiliate himself tonight? 

If Levi is surprised, he covers it well, staring at Eren for a moment before deadpanning, “No, Eren, I just paid for a nice cup of tea and an early night. The foot rub was on the house.”

Eren cringes. “I’m sorry, sir. That was out of line.”

Levi peers down at his folded arms, brows still creased in thought. “Everyone has needs. Even old farts like me from time to time, strange as it may seem.”

“That’s not—god, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to question your, uh…” Eren trails off when he realises there’s no good way to end that sentence. “You’re _not_ old.”

“Aren’t I?” Levi reaches for a cup of tea. “I wish I had your optimism.”

“You’re not!” Eren insists. The last thing he wanted to do was insult Levi! If only the man knew how often Eren had thought of him doing exactly what he came here to do tonight. Preferably with Eren of course, in a variety of positions. The Levi in Eren’s fantasies is anything but old. “Surely you could get anyone you wanted in the corps?”

Levi splutters into his teacup, then gives Eren a very odd look.

“What?” Eren asks.

Levi shakes his head.

Eren knows he’s not very good at judging people’s feelings, at least not where romance is concerned. Most of the time he thinks of sex and romance as needless distractions, itches best scratched efficiently and in private. Even his own itches frustrate him at times. Captain Levi is his superior and a true asset in the fight against Marley, not someone for Eren to project his teenage hormones onto. It’s hard, at times, to put the odd flashes of insight he has into words. Usually he ends up offending someone. So when he tentatively asks, “Are you lonely?” he’s half expecting a punch in the face.

Levi frowns at him. “That’s a rather personal question, Eren.”

“Yeah,” Eren agrees. “It is.”

Placing his teacup back on the table, Levi sighs. “It took me a long time to feel comfortable in the Survey Corps,” he replies quietly, crossing his arms again as if trying to shield himself from vulnerability. “And I lost most of the people I had grown comfortable with in a single battle. It took less than a day.” He glances at Eren. “So, yes, I suppose so. If you wish to call it loneliness.”

“Mm.” Eren nods along. He should have noticed this much sooner, and chastises himself. He was, after all, partly responsible for Levi losing the people he cared for, and his own brother was almost wholly responsible. He’s struck by an idea. “We play cards,” he offers. “You know, in the evenings? It—it started when we were training, but after Trost—”

“I’m aware.” Levi looks thoughtful.

“You could come join us if you wanted? Commander Hange does, sometimes.”

Levi picks up his tea again. “That’s a kind offer, Eren.” He takes a sip. “I’ll think about it.”

Eren sits back on the chaise, bashful yet pleased. And he can tell Levi _is_ thinking about it, eyes hooded, expression turned inwards. After a while, Eren pours himself a cup of tea, content to enjoy the companionship, unexpected as it is. Maybe he could suggest going to a proper bar instead of lingering here with all the uncomfortable sex sounds floating in the air? It would be nice to spend more time with Levi.

“Aren’t you going to find yourself someone?” Levi asks suddenly. “You don’t have to keep me company, you know. Got my tea—” he lifts his cup “—I’ll just pretend I never saw you here.”

Eren fidgets. In truth, the desperate impulse that brought him here feeling sick and bewildered has withered now. This quiet comfort is preferable to... whatever it was he had in mind before.

Levi sits up straight, leaning forward. “Eren, if you’re uncomfortable, you shouldn’t be here.”

“I just wanted to feel normal for a night,” Eren mutters. He’s not quite sure what he even means by that anymore. Probably still sex. He’s horny with all the men around him touching each other, not to mention Levi sitting so close he can smell the cologne he wears when he’s off duty. But when has normal ever been on the cards for Eren? He stands abruptly and grabs his jacket. “You’re right, this was a stupid idea.”

Before he can even debate if offering a salute or a ‘sir’ is appropriate, Levi yanks him back down by his sleeve. “Shitting hell,” Levi snaps. “Sit down, you dumbass.”

Eren gapes. So much for quiet comfort.

“If you want to feel normal, whatever _that_ means, then go feel normal.” Levi gestures in the direction of the back corridor. The expression on his face says _I can’t believe I’m being forced to give sex advice to one of the brats._ “What’s the problem?”

“I’ve never—” Eren’s face scrunches up in shame “—you know.”

“Oh.” Levi pauses. “Don’t you want your first time to be with someone special?”

“I think that’s expecting too much.” Just a first time _at all_ would be nice before he dies.

It takes Levi a while to say anything. Eren can tell he’s considering abandoning the topic altogether, staring somewhat longingly at the teacup he put down. Eventually he mutters, “It’s not expecting too much. Lots of young men would be lucky to—” Levi stops, eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “Just, don’t sell yourself short, brat. If you’d rather get it over with, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, but you’re normal whatever you choose.”

Well, this is doing nothing to dampen Eren’s crush. “Thank you, sir,” he replies, a little stunned.

Eren doesn’t mean to glance down at the wrong time, doesn’t mean to spot Levi’s hand about to touch his bicep. The hand is snatched away before he even has a chance to blink.

Eren stares at the space between them, heart skittering.

“Right, well.” Levi stands, apparently not realising he was caught. “That’s enough of that.”

Eren peers up. “You’re leaving?”

“I have a room for the night. I’m tired.”

“Oh.”

Levi gives him a stern look, but Eren can tell he’s putting it on. “I expect you on time for training tomorrow,” he says, pointing his finger at Eren’s chest.

Eren rolls his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Looking at the bar, Levi smirks. “And if you’re walking bow-legged, I promise I won’t say anything.”

Oh god. An intense blush creeps up Eren’s face.

“Goodnight, Eren,” Levi says, waving his hand in casual dismissal.

“Goodnight, Captain,” Eren grumbles.

Levi wanders off towards the back corridor, but not before having a quick word with the barmaid. Within a few moments, she is bringing a fresh pot of tea over for Eren.

Eren stares at the archway which Levi disappeared through, the one shielded by the curtain of beads, a forbidden world. He looks back to the steaming tendrils of green tea curling up from the teapot, then frowns at the empty chaise beside him.

He wants to go after Levi.

Would it be so terrible? To have this one thing for himself before it all goes to shit? When he escapes to Marley – and he will, there’s no other choice – he’ll leave everyone behind. He’ll never experience the simple pleasures of friendship again. Will never know the sweet promise of being on the precipice of something more, of catching a man about to touch him. Would it be so terrible to see if it could be more? For just one night?

Grabbing his jacket, Eren makes a decision and heads for the beaded curtain, pushing through with determination.

He falters in the dark hallway. He doesn’t know which room belongs to Levi.

His ears pick out the insistent squeaking of bed frames, the faint yet unmistakable moans of men in the throes of passion. It’s honestly kind of embarrassing, and he begins to think he’s missed his chance.

A door clicks shut behind him. Whirling around in hope, Eren’s shoulders slump when he sees the barmaid coming from a storage room, balancing clean glasses on a tray. She squints at him. “You look a little lost.”

“I was just—” Eren wonders if she’s even allowed to tell him where Levi is. If she even knows.

The barmaid glances at her tray. “Room twenty,” she murmurs.

“Huh?”

“I’m not supposed to say I know who you two are,” she continues. “But I saw the way you were making eyes at each other. I figure after everything you have done for us, you deserve a bit of happiness.” She turns back towards the bar and glances over her shoulder at Eren. “He’s in room twenty. Always is.”

Eren heads for room twenty.

It is – perhaps predictably – at the farthest end of the corridor, where things are quieter with fewer grunts and groans polluting the air. Eren expects the door to be locked, but it isn’t, so he slips inside and shuts it behind him.

Levi’s chosen room – the one he always uses, apparently – is just as red as the rest of the brothel. A four poster bed draped with silk sheets fills the room, and an antique dressing table sits off to one side. Eren eyes the unopened carafe of wine on the table uneasily, the damn thing staring back at him, though he doubts Levi would ever touch a drop. In the middle of the bed lies the man himself, flat on his back, forearm covering his eyes.

Eren waits, wondering if he’s about to be drop kicked out of the building.

“Look, Eren.” Levi sounds overly annoyed. “I have a headache. I came here to get my dick sucked followed by a decent night’s sleep. Since you fucked up the first one, the least you could do is piss off and let me get started on the second.”

Ignoring the attempt at chasing him off, Eren goes to sit on the bed. He notices Levi’s Survey Corps uniform hanging on the back of the door, crisp and white and ready for the next day. Always prepared, his Captain.

Eren peers down at Levi, who has tensed up. His fist is clenched, and he lets out a shaky breath before stammering, “Eren, I don’t—this isn’t—it’s not appropriate.”

“Because you’re older than me?” Eren wonders.

Levi’s throat moves as he swallows. “Amongst other things.”

Taking stock of Levi’s room once more, Eren cannot help but wonder how many times Levi has used this bed with men he has paid for, writhing in pleasure as he forgets himself. Or does he have a regular he prefers? He appeared comfortable with the young man in the bar, vulnerable even. Perhaps Eren really _is_ intruding where he’s not wanted, and Levi is simply too out of his comfort zone to say so.

“Do you want me to leave?” Eren stares at his own reflection in the dressing table’s ornate mirror, steeling himself to get up and go, no matter how much he might want to stay here in this room with Levi. He decides to be honest first, at least about his desires. He owes his Captain that. “I haven’t been with anyone before, but I wouldn’t mind being with you. If you wanted to.”

No reply is immediately forthcoming. Eren plucks up the courage to look back down, only to find Levi hasn’t moved or responded in any appreciable way. His face remains screwed up as if he’s in pain, his arm covering his eyes, his body rigid with tension— Eren’s gaze travels down it in longing, and then he freezes.

It’s subtle, but there’s the faintest trace of a swell in Levi’s trousers, resting against his thigh. Eren sucks in a shocked breath, feeling as though he’s been lit on _fire._

Levi’s body is betraying him, and Eren can’t go now, he can’t. “Do you want me to leave?” he asks again, the words coming out breathlessly hopeful.

Levi replies with a whisper, almost a confession. “I don’t know,” he admits.

Well, Eren knows.

He leans over and presses their lips together.

The shudder that runs through Levi’s body is gratifying, but otherwise he doesn’t move. Eren would never force him, but recognises he might have to press the matter _just a little_. Levi wants sex tonight, he wouldn’t be here in this brothel if he didn’t, and Eren noticed him reach out. He wants Eren. They can forget their worries together.

“You can tell me to stop.” Eren brushes his lips against Levi’s, the tip of his tongue coming out to dampen the space between them. “If you want me to stop, tell me.”

Levi shifts on the bed, rustling the red silk sheets.

“It’s just me,” Eren reminds him. “It’s just Eren.”

The sensation of fingertips one-by-one pressing into his back has Eren celebrating inside. Levi sighs into his mouth, palms skimming over his shoulder blades. Scrunches up his shirt and gently pulls him closer. “ _Eren_ ,” he whispers, a trembling note of desperation beneath the deep sensuality of his voice. Eren doesn’t think his name has ever sounded quite like that before.

“It’s alright,” Eren murmurs against his lips.

And then Levi begins kissing back, and rational thought scatters into the smoky air around them.

His lips are soft and wet - _so soft_ \- and they taste of herbal tea. The best thing Eren’s ever tasted, sweet and natural. _Oh god, he’s kissing back!_ Levi uses those lips to smother Eren’s sighs of pleasure, fingers tangling into Eren’s hair and foot snaking around his calf. “Your mouth is hot,” Levi observes, looking a bit dazed.

Then he flips Eren over and presses him into the bed.

“What—”

“Shh,” Levi replies. “If we’re doing this, then I want to enjoy you. Stop complaining.”

_I wasn’t!_ Eren thinks, but Levi has already recaptured his lips. Eren can’t think straight. The flickering candles, spicy incense, and soft bedsheets are enough to make him sweat with warmth; Levi’s questing lips, nibbling at his own, are making him positively feverish. 

Levi is a _great_ kisser. It doesn’t take long for Eren to grow hard, blisteringly so, and within minutes, Levi is swallowing his moans. All thoughts of betrayal and blackmail are easily swept away. He can’t believe his luck, can’t believe this is happening.

Eren could cry at how good it feels to have Levi’s palm against his cheek, gentle fingertips scratching through his hair, body moving subtly against his. He wants more, _more_. Levi breaks the kiss again and gazes down into Eren’s eyes as if searching for something. Eren tries to chase his lips.

“Impatient,” Levi murmurs, using his grip in Eren’s hair to keep him at bay. “We’ve got all night, you know.”

Eren considers asking if they can grind on each other and blow a load or something first. He’s feeling a bit desperate, and Levi’s erection nudging into his thigh isn’t exactly helping.

Levi gives Eren a thoughtful look, brushing wispy strands of hair from his forehead. “Would you let me wash you?”

Eren almost bursts out laughing. “You—want to _wash_ me?”

Levi visibly winces. “Too weird?”

Aware suddenly that he’s made a misstep, Eren rushes to say, “No, of course not!” He peers around the room, wondering what it would be like to be washed by Levi. Probably his skin will be raw by the end of it, and it’s not the sexiest activity he can picture right at this very moment, but it’s Levi. So it’s fine. “Okay,” he says with a firm nod. “What do you want me to do?”

Levi shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Wait here,” he replies. He gets up, groaning a bit after being tangled together on the bed, and heads for the door. Eren listens as he requests a basin of hot water, freshly laundered cloths, and some particular soaps which they apparently stock. He checks twice to make sure they understand exactly which soaps they should be fetching. Eren is charmed.

A few minutes later an older man enters their room, eyes downcast, and Levi instructs him to place the items on the dressing table. Eren fidgets, aware of how debauched they look with Levi’s shirt askew and Eren's neck still damp with his saliva, but the man is the epitome of discretion and exits without a word.

Levi rolls up his sleeves and gestures Eren over.

Still uncomfortably hard, Eren stumbles across the bedroom. Levi nudges him into place in front of the mirror until all he can see is himself taking up most of the frame. Levi’s quiet breathing – the way he’s acting as if all of this is rather normal – helps soothe Eren’s nerves a little.

“Do you always do this?” Eren asks cautiously. “With your, um, other partners?”

Levi reaches his arms around from behind – it’s kind of funny, Eren can only see the top of Levi’s head in the mirror – and finishes unbuttoning Eren’s shirt. “Sometimes,” he says simply.

“Why?”

“Not for the same reasons I’m doing it for you.” Levi peels his shirt off. “Just enjoy it, Eren.”

Befuddled, Eren allows Levi to continue undressing him; shoes, pants, socks, the material sliding rough over his fevered skin until he’s staring at himself naked.

A press of lips against his shoulder blade. “You’re a handsome young man,” Levi murmurs, and reaches for the nearest cloth and a deep rust-coloured bar of soap.

Eren jerks in surprise, and not a small amount of arousal. He’s not unaware of his looks, yet never imagined he’d hear Levi say such a thing. “Really?” he cannot help but ask.

“Mm.” Levi soaps up a cloth, and a sharp woody aroma emerges. “This is sandalwood soap, by the way. It’s supposed to make orgasms more powerful.”

“O-oh.”

“Lift up your arm.”

Eren swallows, unsure. The last person who bathed him was probably his mother when he was a child. He did not expect Levi to begin with such an intimate request.

“Eren, it’s just me.” Levi trails the soapy cloth lightly across Eren’s bicep. “It’s just Levi.”

Levi tossing his own reassurances back at him makes Eren shiver in delight. It _is_ just Levi. His captain and mentor, his hero, his crush… but also, just Levi. Eren knows he will be taken care of despite his nerves. Levi has always taken care of him. He lifts his arm.

“Well done,” Levi says.

A whoosh of air leaves Eren, and his dick visibly twitches in the mirror at the compliment. Levi said it so casually. He’s not used to praise falling so easily from his superior’s lips, delicious like melted butter, and it’s more enticing than Eren expected.

He wants to ask Levi to continue, but isn’t sure how.

Levi begins washing under Eren’s arms, first one, then the other, scratching at the dark hair there, making Eren squirm with embarrassment and ticklishness. Levi appears to find it mildly amusing, peppering his shoulders with rewarding kisses as Eren unwinds.

“Can you—” Eren takes a steadying breath “—talk some more? Please?”

Levi is occupied with rinsing the cloth. “About what?”

“About what you think of me.”

Levi’s hands pause at the basin. He glances at Eren in the mirror. Then he returns to soaping the cloth, meticulous in everything he does. “Well, I think you’re a brat who doesn’t shower often enough,” he quips. “And you could do with ironing your trousers again. How many times do I have to show you the correct way to press the creases in?”

Eren huffs. “Never mind.”

Touching the wet cloth to Eren’s stomach, Levi says, “Words aren’t exactly my strong point, Eren. You know that.”

“I know.” Eren closes his eyes at the way Levi is massaging him in teasing circles. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The cloth moves down. Levi uses it to squeeze Eren’s dick, making him gasp. “This is lovely, by the way.”

Eren’s eyes fly open and he moans.

“Is that what you want?” Levi continues, soaping up his erection. “You want me to talk to you like that?”

“Yes, yes _please_.”

“Tch.” Levi rests his forehead lightly on Eren’s arm, keeping up the slow, sensual rhythm that is driving Eren insane. His cheekbones are tinged with pink. Levi is blushing, and trying to hide it.

Eren thinks he might pass out with sheer pleasure.

The unexpected tenderness is what hits him. In his fantasies – and he has indulged them on occasion – Levi was rough, dominant, commanding, and Eren enjoyed it immensely. But this? The silky soft whisper of lips against his skin, the careful way Levi is practically caressing his cock, the sandalwood scent and flickering candlelight. This is so much sweeter than Eren could have imagined.

And he won’t deny that hearing his Captain speak highly of him, a man who bestows praise so rarely in an official capacity, is a powerful turn-on. Eren has always desired Levi’s approval, and he’ll savour whatever he can get. “I want to see you,” he admits.

Levi slips between Eren and the dressing table, regards him through thick, sooty lashes and dishevelled bangs. He dances fingertips across the light dusting of hair on Eren’s abdomen while continuing to stroke him. “Gorgeous,” he murmurs.

There are splashes on Levi’s shirt now where the soapy water has dripped. Eren wants to tear it off, but Levi is admiring him, caring for him, and Eren daren’t want to ruin something so precious.

Levi rinses him off with a clean damp cloth, almost clinically save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Eren’s quiet moaning fills the bedroom.

Eventually, Levi reaches for a second bar of soap, light pink and creamy textured. “It’s infused with rose petals,” Levi informs him. “Good for your skin.”

“You, um, know a lot about soap.”

“Yes.” Levi lathers the soap into rich foamy suds, then reaches round and begins washing Eren’s bottom.

Eren gasps, fighting the reflex to pull away.

Levi’s fingers gently skim his entrance. “Have you ever been touched like this, Eren?”

“N-no.”

“Mm,” he replies, as if he had expected that answer. “Do you like it?”

Small circular motions are setting Eren’s nerves alight. “It feels kind of weird,” he admits. _But so good_ . To have Levi – _Levi!_ – touching him as if he cherishes him, as if nothing about Eren could repulse or displease him.

“Want me to stop?” Levi continues massaging him with the mild soap, teasing. There’s a challenge in his eyes.

Eren swallows. “No.”

“Good.” Levi’s hand works itself between his ass cheeks, slippery and soothing. “Relax. You look beautiful like this.”

Eren trembles. He feels anything but relaxed. He wants to jump Levi’s bones, quite frankly. His erection is pressing into the front of Levi’s shirt, and another damp spot appears, only this one isn’t caused by water.

Looking down, the swell in Levi’s trousers is now a firm bulge.

Without thinking too much on it – rational thought sort of evaporated the moment Levi started touching him – Eren reaches down and presses his palm to Levi’s erection.

Levi unexpectedly flinches.

Eren snatches his hand away. “I’m sorry!”

“No,” Levi says, grabbing his wrist. “You just took me by surprise.” His lips twitch with a small smile. “You can touch me if you want, Eren.”

That’s quite the invitation. Eren doesn’t even know where to start. He chooses the obvious, and gives the bulge in Levi’s trousers a squeeze.

Levi makes an interesting noise and his eyelids flutter rapidly. “Perhaps you’re clean enough now,” he says. “Shall we move things to the bed?”

“Uh.” Eren eyes the large bed. Should he get on all fours? He still has soap suds dripping down the back of his thighs, and Levi is still wearing clothes.

“Lie down on your back.”

Thankful for some direction, Eren does as he’s told. This is why he followed Levi to this room; he’s always been able to figure out exactly what Eren needs to hear; when to be gentle, when to be harsh. Even privately. In this he can trust Levi completely.

Even though he’s now dripping a wet patch onto the fancy sheets.

“Tch.” Levi grabs his ankles and drags him to the edge. Levi’s not rough exactly, not really. He simply seems eager, the thought exciting Eren.

“Let me look at you,” he says.

Eren drops his knees willingly, shivering at the no-nonsense treatment. “Do you like what you see?” he asks, half shy, half bold.

Levi gives him a sly look. “Fishing for compliments again?”

“Maybe.”

Levi cleans him off with a damp cloth, and Eren feels so _exposed_ like this. Another smile tugs at his lips, and then he starts sinking to his knees.

Staring at the space between Eren’s legs, Levi lets out a gentle sigh.

Eren frowns. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I thought you wanted me to admire you?”

Eren bites his lip uncertainly, gazing at the intricate carving on the four poster bed. He most definitely wants Levi to admire him, he’d just had visions of Levi waxing lyrical about his chest muscles or something. Not staring at his asshole.

When featherlight fingertips guide his thighs open almost as wide as they can go, Eren actually puts his palms against his cheeks, certain they are burning up. “Levi…” he mutters.

“Maybe I’ll admire you with a kiss,” Levi murmurs in response.

Eren feels the press of lips on the tender spot beneath his testicles. A soft gasp escapes him, loud in the quiet bedroom.

“Too much?” Levi asks, a warm puff of breath against Eren’s heated skin.

“No, I—” Eren fumbles for words. “I think I like that.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Here is Levi, his fastidious, fussy, _clean_ Captain, bathing Eren’s body with his tongue. After the expensive soaps and careful washing, Eren is smart enough to figure out where this is going, and – a confusing mix of embarrassed and bold – he cautiously uses his hands to pull his knees back, exposing himself for Levi. “All y-yours,” he says, breathing heavily.

Levi groans, and then swipes a wet tongue across Eren’s sensitive entrance.

Eren throws his head back and screws his eyes shut, confounded by how much he suddely wants this, how much the thought of _Levi_ doing this turns him on. Levi said he sometimes washes his other partners, but not for the same reasons he washed Eren. He has a faint hope this was what Levi meant, this was something he wanted only to do _for Eren_.

And Levi is not reticent about it either, licking and tasting and eventually thrusting his tongue deep into Eren, using his hands to encourage Eren’s undulating hips. He’s moaning against Eren, _into_ Eren, enjoying it just as much.

Levi pauses to lap at his balls, taking one then the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue. Then he's moving back down again, licking up his own saliva as he tastes and savours Eren's most private parts.

Incoherent noises escape Eren's mouth. However, when his hand starts inching towards his cock, Levi stops. Eren peers down through blurry vision to find him gasping for breath, chin shiny with spit, a high flush on his sharp cheekbones. Thoroughly dirty. “Do you want to keep doing this?” he asks, sounding torn. “Do you want me to make you come like this?”

Eren feels torn too. This is so _good_. But—

“I want to feel all of you.”

“Alright.”

Levi fetches a glass vial from the tray of intimate oils on the dresser. He’s _still_ dressed, and Eren’s about had enough of that. Before Levi can uncork the oil, he sits up. “Wait,” he says, caging Levi in with his bare legs. “It’s no fun if you’re not naked too.”

“Always in a hurry, Eren.”

Eren can tell he loves it though, pretending to huff in annoyance even as he shifts around to help Eren strip his shirt off. Trousers next, and Levi begins kissing him desperately, grabbing Eren’s head to angle it upwards. He kicks off the rest of his clothes while their lips are still attached, then clambers onto the bed, pushing Eren down as he does so. Eren goes willingly, beyond ready.

Levi reaches for the oil again. “Sorry to ask this,” he says, fumbling with the bottle. “But you’ve been to the privy recently, I assume?”

Eren cringes. “Yeah. I’m not _that_ stupid, sir.”

“Just checking. And don’t call me sir, brat.”

“Sorry, sir,” he says with a sly smile.

Levi gives him a _look_. Eren might call it unimpressed, except for the fact that he’s blushing, and cannot help but pull him down for more kisses. He really loves feeling Levi’s lips against his, loves the taste of his mouth, the scent of his skin up close.

He can feel Levi slicking himself up, clumsy as he too seems focused on the way their tongues caress one another. _This is it, this is it,_ Eren thinks as oil drips onto his belly. He tries to swallow down any nerves.

Levi presses the head of his erection against Eren’s entrance. “Ready?”

“Mmhmm,” Eren murmurs, opening his legs as wide as he can.

The look in Levi’s eyes is one Eren will take with him to the grave. He looks excited, charmed, _young_. Almost like he considers this a privilege—

“Ow, fuck!” Eren squawks. “What the—ow!”

“Shhh,” Levi soothes. “I know, it’s shitty.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Eren curls up in distress as Levi slowly but firmly pushes in. Ugh, what the hell? This is horrible!

Levi stops only when he bottoms out. He’s pretty average sized, but Eren feels like he’s literally being split open by Levi’s dick.

His expression is sympathetic. “How does that feel?” 

Eren shifts uncomfortably. This is just about the least sexy thing he can imagine. “Uh, kind of like I need to take a shit,” he admits.

“Ha!”

Eren startles at Levi’s bark of laughter. He’s smiling, _truly_ smiling, an amused sparkle lighting up deep grey eyes. Eren feels his heart open like a flower in bloom at the sight of Levi’s happy face, and even though his erection is rapidly wilting and he just desperately feels like he needs the privy, he thinks, _this is why going to Marley is worth it. This is why I’m fighting._ The sight of Levi amused and playful, for once the burdens of war lifted from his shoulders. _Everyone deserves to be this free._

“It’s not funny,” Eren grumbles, worried anything else he’d say would be some sort of inane love confession.

Levi rests his forehead against Eren’s collarbone. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Eren.”

Eren gulps. He’s slightly concerned he might start crying, and not entirely due to the _very uncomfortable_ dick in his ass. “I can’t believe people do this for fun,” he replies, trying to keep the mood light.

Levi nuzzles him soothingly. “It’ll get better.”

Eren clings to that notion as hard as he’s clinging to the silken sheets. Levi moves inside him, slowly circling his hips, and Eren grimaces. “Ugh.”

“Want me to stop?”

Eren thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. He hopes the worst is over. It’s uncomfortable but it isn’t really _painful_ , at least not compared to the kind of physical pain Eren has grown accustomed to, and there’s a heavy lidded expression on Levi’s face that suggests he’s rather enjoying the experience. “How does it feel for you?”

Levi shoots him a contemplative look, then he moves again and whispers against Eren’s skin, “Warm. Fucking _hot_.”

Eren’s lips part at the utterly filthy tone in which Levi speaks those words.

“Yeah?” he prompts.

“Fuck Eren, you’re tight,” Levi hisses. “So _hot_.”

Eren whines at the praise. He could definitely go for more of _that_ , cock perking up again with interest, despite the weird feeling of Levi moving inside him.

“Here, lift your hips up for me,” Levi tells him.

Eren does as requested, thigh muscles straining, wrapping one arm around Levi’s shoulders for purchase. He’s not exactly sure why but—

“Ohhh,” Eren breathes, a subtle yet distinctly pleasurable sensation rippling out from inside him as Levi slips deeper. “That’s a bit better.”

“Good boy,” Levi says against his lips. “You’re doing really well.”

The sound that’s torn from Eren’s throat is loud and wanton, and as Levi places his hands either side of Eren’s head and begins a steady rocking rhythm, their hips moving in tandem, Eren doesn’t know what to think. It’s still uncomfortable, but oh god there’s pleasure too, the pressure of chest on chest, Levi’s heavy breaths into his mouth, warmth and sweat and that occasional pulsing sensation as Levi enters him again and again. Before long, Eren finds he is rising to meet Levi to feel more of that pleasure, lifting his hips to roll against Levi’s shallow thrusts.

His dick is fully hard again, and Levi is getting faster and faster. Suddenly, Eren realises that he might actually come from this. And sooner than expected.

“Tell me I’m doing a good job,” he begs.

“You’re doing a good job Eren,” Levi replies immediately, then licks up the sweat from Eren’s throat. “Shit, keep moving, you feel so warm, keep moving like that.”

“Ah, Levi!” Eren wants more than anything to please him, the sound of skin slapping against skin growing louder. Wants more than anything for Levi to always think highly of him, even though he knows it’s a futile hope.

“Good boy, so gorgeous.” Levi continues to taste him between words, kissing his throat, cheek, lips. “I’m proud of you, Eren.”

Eren practically shouts in pleasure. He tries to save all the praise up and lock it away, ready for the bitterest nights. Holds each kind word to his heart, because soon – far too soon – he knows Levi will wish he could take every single one of them back.

The pace is growing frantic now; the bed shakes beneath them. Gripping Levi’s muscular ass, Eren rubs and squeezes, feels it tensing beneath his palms with each sensual pump of Levi’s hips. Eren _wills_ him deeper, pulls at him with each thrust, luxuriates in the hot, desperate breaths against his neck.

“My boy,” Levi pants. He sounds so into it. “All mine.”

“Captain,” Eren gasps, so used to the title he forgets himself. “ _Please._ ”

Levi moans. “Nearly there, sweetheart?”

“Yes!”

Levi fumbles between them to take hold of Eren’s cock, giving it a few unsteady strokes, seemingly too lost in his own pleasure for much coordination. “Say it again, Eren. Tell me who you’re with.”

Dazed and teetering on the edge of orgasm, Eren doesn’t really understand why Levi is asking, but he tries his best. “My Captain,” he whispers.

Levi cries out. His whole body jerks beneath Eren’s arms, rhythm faltering. Eren feels slippery warmth filling him, and realises Levi is coming. Coming inside Eren.

The thought of Levi experiencing pleasure _inside of him_ has Eren toppling over the edge too, hard and fast. “Levi! Levi!” he yells, shuddering through one of the headiest orgasms he’s ever experienced.

Hot semen spills into the space between them. It’s a mess. They’re both a mess. Not quite co-ordinated, shaking and gasping, sticky with shared bodily fluids. Eren thinks this might be the best moment of his life.

Then Levi collapses on top of him.

“Oof,” Eren grunts, squashed.

“Fucking hell,” Levi bites out, trying to catch his breath.

His heart is pounding; Eren can feel it. “Are you alright?”

The reply is just a muffled noise into the pillow.

Eren could probably count on one hand the amount of times in his life he’s felt truly happy. Relaxing in the flowers with Mikasa as a child, hearing Armin speak of the ocean with light in his eyes, joining the Cadet Corps and knowing he’d finally be making a difference… and now. He’s happy now, lying here in the aftermath of lovemaking with Levi.

He doesn’t realise he’s teary eyed until Levi lifts his head and wipes a salty droplet from his cheek. It glistens on the tip of Levi’s thumb. He looks concerned.

“I didn’t know it would be like this,” Eren confesses, too many emotions happening at once.

Levi just kisses him, kisses the tears away, and when he finally softens and slips out of Eren he rolls to the side and pulls Eren to his chest. Eren sniffles, feeling silly, and wonders how Levi can stand the mess.

Apparently he can’t.

Levi is still stroking Eren’s trembling thigh as he whispers, “C’mon, stop crying and get up. We need to wash.” His lips brush lightly against Eren’s temple, and there is a lazy intimacy underlying his words that Eren is thrilled to hear.

Eren smiles through his tears. “I knew that was coming.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Levi goes to call for more warm water. The brief glimpse of sweaty nudity as he walks across the room before sticking his head out the door – firm ass flexing and pretty cock soft against his thigh – has Eren sighing wistfully. God, what a great way to lose his virginity!

Levi insists on sluicing Eren down with more of the rose-scented soap. There isn’t much talking – they’re both exhausted – but Eren tortures himself by silently imagining what a life would be like with Levi as a partner. Levi who seems to enjoy taking care of him, coddling him even! There’s a cheeky part of Eren that wants to tease Levi for it, but he’s being so conscientious about ensuring Eren is clean, it would be out of place. This is obviously important to Levi, so he keeps quiet.

When they finally extinguish the lights and curl up again between the sheets, Levi drapes an arm across Eren’s stomach. Pokes at his abdomen. “You need to stop growing,” he mutters sleepily.

_If only I could_ , Eren mouths silently into the darkness. He’d dearly love to stop time and stay in this moment forever, never ageing. Eren has one final thought about telling Levi everything, the unwelcome reality trying to claw its way into their post-coital haze. _Save me, Levi_.

But Levi’s breathing goes deep and slow, and Eren knows it’s over.

He’s going to betray him.

Warmth upon his eyelids slowly rouses Eren to wakefulness; he blinks into shards of sunlight which penetrate the room like thunder spears.

Pulling the covers over his head, Eren scowls. Morning came too soon.

His mouth feels rough and scratchy, and he’s aching like he does after healing. God, he hopes his ass didn’t steam or something. Probably not; Levi was extremely gentle.

Eren yawns, contemplating whether or not to go back to sleep.

A polite cough is the reply.

He pokes his head out of the sheets to find Levi watching him, a fond expression on his face. Eren realises he is still drooling from sleep and discreetly wipes his mouth beneath the covers. He’s about to bid Levi a good morning when Levi reaches over and attempts to fix Eren’s hair. “Tch,” he whispers. “Messy.”

Eren buries his face in the pillow to hide his blush.

Levi chuckles and the bed shifts as he rolls out of it. Listening to the soft pad of bare footsteps on the rug, Eren tries to stop himself from panicking. He’s just had the best night of his life – with _Levi_ – and he doesn’t know what the fuck to say. Confessing his love would be a bit much; confessing his predicament impossible.

He sneaks a peek over to the dresser, where Levi is already getting dressed, efficient as always.

Eren counts the ways in which Levi is rumpled. His hair, soft to the touch last night, looks mussed up this morning. There are creases in his shirt where it didn’t get folded properly in the rush to undress. Peeking from beneath the shirt collar is a blooming bite mark on Levi’s neck. Eren doesn’t even remember doing it.

“Are you just going to lounge about and stare at me all morning?” Levi raises an eyebrow at him in the mirror. “Training’s in an hour, you know.”

Eren pulls the covers up to his chin. They still smell like sex. He doesn’t want to leave this beautiful scarlet room and go back to the real world with its drab colours and poisoned wine.

Levi clears his throat. “Eren. When we get back to headquarters…”

Eren allows himself a small grimace as Levi steers them towards reality. He knows all too well this intimacy cannot last forever, but even so, Eren is a bit annoyed by Levi’s practicality. They could have at least shared a morning tea together before going their separate ways.

“…I would like to keep things between us discreet, if you don’t mind. I know your friends are trustworthy, but I’m a private person.” Levi smooths his cravat out, then untucks it again, apparently unsatisfied. “Will that be acceptable?”

Eren’s lips part. “What?” he says stupidly, sitting up.

He feels a bit like he’s mistimed a grapple during an aerial manoeuvre and is floundering mid-air; the shock of having made an error, but the knowledge that it’s already too late to do anything about it.

Grey eyes meet his in the mirror, mildly puzzled.

“I _can’t_ ,” Eren blurts.

Levi is quick, but not so quick that he can hide the flicker of surprised hurt. He hastily returns to fumbling with his cravat, schooling his expression carefully blank. “Oh,” he says, after a moment. “Okay.”

It’s like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water over Eren. “I mean, uh—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

The bedroom falls painfully quiet.

Levi untucks his cravat again and begins for a third time. Eren stares at the back of his head, feeling sick. _Levi thought this would_ _continue?_ At no point did Eren even imagine— well, that’s not correct. He remembers thinking how much he wanted this to last beyond a night, knowing deep down it never could. Levi steadfastly avoids Eren’s gaze in the mirror.

Eren looks away.

“Did I…” Levi begins, then pauses. His voice sounds strange. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” Eren practically shouts, horrified. “ _No._ Levi, I don’t regret this. I _won’t_ regret this.”

Levi nods. It looks like he’s trying to reassure himself. “Alright.”

Words crawl up Eren’s throat, scratch at his tongue, and he chokes them down again, trying and trying and _trying_ to find the right ones. Words that will take away the hurt expression still flickering in Levi’s eyes. “Last night was amazing...” he begins.

“Eren, don’t.”

“But—”

With three quick strides, Levi is in front of him, his palm on Eren’s cheek. “Eren,” he says, looking stern. “You _don’t_ need to explain. Thank you for choosing me. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He sweeps his thumb across Eren’s cheekbone. “That’s all there is to it. Now get the fuck up, don’t make me force you to run laps because you’re late.” As quick as he’d walked over, Levi goes back to the dressing table, leaving an air of finality in his wake.

Eren trembles with the urge to undo this terrible thing he has done. But that’s just it, isn’t it? This is the path he must walk now. A path of secrecy and pain. He’ll never be able to undo the things he’s about to do.

So he gets up and starts looking for his clothes.

The brothel is quiet as they make their way out, everyone still sleeping. They pause in the doorway, avoiding the puddles that glisten in the morning sun. Last night it had been raining, and yet their night _together_ was beautiful. How strange that this morning should feel like the opposite.

Levi says, “I think I’ll take the long way back. Clear my head a bit.”

“Okay,” Eren replies.

“You look like you’re about to salute me, Eren.”

“I don’t know—” Eren swallows “—I don’t know what to do.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “We can salute if you _want_ to.”

“Ugh.” Eren runs his hands down his face. He’s hurt Levi and there is nothing he can do to fix it.

Levi just offers him a sad smile. Perhaps he is used to shaking off the hurt. Instead of saluting, he pops himself up on his tiptoes and presses a kiss to Eren’s cheek. “There,” he says. “Now don’t be fucking late.”

All Eren can respond with is a frown.

The way Levi disappears into the sunlit morning, vanishing between glistening buildings with his shoulders hunched against the crisp breeze and his hands fisted in his pockets, is the final nail in the coffin in which Eren must bury his heart.

He takes a lonely route back to headquarters, and gradually he forces his thoughts beyond Trost, beyond Paradis, beyond the ocean.

One day, maybe, Levi will understand.

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


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